Left Behind
by guyw1tn0nam3
Summary: Death is hard on those left behind. Some seek out the comfort of others, others prefer to stay rooted in the past, many begin realizing their own mortality, and only a few can accept and move on. This is the story of those left behind.


**Left Behind**

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><p><em>Of Mai, Zuko, and Azula<em>

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><p>After he had gotten old, Zuko had often talked about how he wanted to be buried next to Uncle Iroh when he died.<p>

"He was the real father to me," Zuko had said to her in his usual stern manner, wiping down the dusty old tombstone. He brought out a few pieces of ginseng and laid it on the floor before bowing deeply in front of his uncle's burial site. "If anything else, I don't want to buried next to my real father."

"You could always wait for Azula to bite the dust and be buried with her," she spoke sarcastically, though she too picked up a rag and started wiping away at the dirt on the stone. "She's cooled down a little bit after all these years you know. Or maybe you could have mentioned being buried next to me, you know, just a little bit."

"You're going to live much longer than me," Zuko affirmed, trying to stand straight but struggled without his cane. Mai went to him and bolstered him up, noticing Zuko's left hand pressed tightly against his chest. He had done this for many years now, and it only grew worse as Zuko aged. "You can decide when that time comes, but I will be long gone."

"I see the wound never really went away," Mai whispered, reaching for the cane that was propped up against Iroh's gravestone. She placed it in Zuko's hand and took his other one firmly in her other palm. "You'd think a Waterbender would've been able to heal it now."

"It's the price I have to pay for my honor," Zuko smiled, before chuckling at Mai's face of disapproval. "I used the h-word again didn't I?"

That day was one of the few times that Mai ever let him off for using the word 'honor'. Perhaps it was because Zuko was dying, and it was the first time that Mai was forced to admit it.

Now, she stood in front of a modest home in a small Fire Nation village at the tip of the country. It had been five years since that day, and things had turned out quite differently from the burial he wanted next to his uncle. A mixture of many things really. The penniless treasury, a dearth of resources, the danger of gravediggers.

She knocked twice on the door and waited calmly for an answer. There was none, so Mai stood for an hour, occasionally knocking on the door to ensure that nobody was pretending that they weren't home. After a while, Mai resorted to sitting idly on the bench on the front porch. She twirled a knife in her hands as she waited, though she had promised to her advisors that the knife had been dulled to prevent any unnecessary injuries.

She came a few minutes later. A young child, her grandson undoubtedly, was holding a pair of paper bags filled with soft foods. The woman walked slowly, her hands in his, her beautiful black hair cut short and grayed. Her once strong gaze had turned feeble, the amber hue in her eyes one of the few things that proved this was a woman who once had the world in her fingertips.

Mai gazed at Azula, and Azula gazed at Mai. Azula quietly signaled for her grandchild to step inside the house. She walked in front of Mai, gazing down at her with curiosity and confusion.

"Hello," Azula spoke, her voice was raspy, her eloquent prose and tone replaced by a throaty cough at the end of her salutation.

"Zuko has passed on," Mai was quick and straight to the point. Azula didn't flinch, but merely looked towards the sky and nodded.

"So I've heard," Azula replied. "But I assume you're not here to tell me to weep and beg for mercy?"

"No," was Mai's response. "I only thought it be appropriate that you be there when we cremate him."

"Didn't he want a proper burial?" Azula asked, her eyes widened for a moment before returning to normalcy. "Next to his uncle? When did that change?"

"Many things changed. There are certain things Zuko wanted that I can't give him," said Mai, her finger still spinning on her blade. "If it were also twenty years ago, I wouldn't have bothered telling you any of this. But old age makes you senile and you tend to forget why you were so angry at one of your best friends."

"Don't say that," Azula started toward the door. "I won't have anything to do with you or him. Him most of all. I appreciate the offer, but you'd better send your family invites to someone else that he considered family. And since he has no other family, I guess you can say that the Fire Lord will be without family at his funeral."

"Funny," Mai stood up and returned the knife to her pocket. "I would have thought it would have been the other way around. No matter. I only wanted to ask that you attend his cremation. I think you burning his body would have made a better alternative than someone else doing it for him."

"You want me to Firebend after all these years? And you want me to burn his body?"

"If it's for your brother, then yes," Mai walked off, waving her hand back at the dazed old woman standing behind her. "You don't need to come, but he was your brother. He gave you another chance, a new life, a life devoid of any consequences that would usually be bestowed on someone like, say, your father. If anything, I think Zuko loved you more than he would ever want to admit."

And with that, Mai was off.

"Is that jealousy I spy," Azula mumbled, before locking herself in her home to think.

A few days later, Zuko's body was placed ready to be burned to the Sun Gods. But before the ceremony could commence, Zuko's body ignited in a beautiful blue flame, wrapping his golden lined garments and wrinkled and old skin in an illustrious and fervent fire. The flames burned for almost an hour before the members of the ceremony scattered to pick up whatever was left of Zuko's remains.

Mai would only smile and gazed at a hooded figure that slinked ever so quietly from the room.

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><p><em>Of Sokka and Suki<em>

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><p>She visited him once a month, and it was always during a full moon.<p>

She would always bring him something new each time. Seal jerky was nice for the first few times, but she cooked all sorts of exotic meals afterwards. She stir fried the jerky with rice. She bought some of the finest chicken and refused to even let her growing son have a bit. She even went as far as ordering some special herbs grown only in the Southern Water Tribe to act as seasoning on baby unagi that she managed to find and catch. Today, she brought him an eel pie, filled with some of his favorite jams and honey.

It took Suki quite a long time to get used to the Water Tribe's custom in sending their dead off to sea. She had cried almost fanatically in Katara's arms, the tears she had been holding back for so long gushing out like bursting of a volcano. There he was, his body send out into the distance against the raging tides. Who knows what awaited him at sea? A tumultuous typhoon? A band of rabid cat sharks? She couldn't say, but she couldn't imagine that there would be no marker for his body on the land.

It was what perhaps set apart her Earth Kingdom roots and his Water Tribe heritage, but she meant to respect it in every way she could. That was then, and now was now. Years afterwards, Suki had no more complaints, and had opted for her own way of respecting the one she loved most dearest.

The shoreline brushed up against Suki's feet, tickling the space in between her toes. Little creatures steered clear of her as she waded deeper towards a boat drifting barely off the shore. She used a long rope that tied the boat to a stake on the beach as a harness, keeping her from losing balance against the volatile tides.

She reached the boat. There was nothing in it, not even an oar for navigation. She placed the eel pie in, and draped it over with a few small white sheets. She then reached into her pocket and unveiled a little letter and placed it besides the eel pie. The letter was sealed with a small stamp and a hint of red lipstick.

"This might be the last time I can send you a meal myself Sokka," Suki spoke out. Her knees buckled against the tides, her hands shaking as she tried to hold on, even though the waters were nothing more than a gentle push and pull. "I'm getting old, and there's only so much that I can do now. Most of the other Kyoshi warriors have passed on, and even Ty Lee…"

She could say no more. She bit her lip, reluctant to come to terms with reality.

Instead, she bowed her head deep. "Anyway," Suki whispered. "Here's the poem I wrote this month. I thought I'd finally try my hand in it, since you were the one that had taught it to me."

She opened her mouth and recited.

_Drifting out at sea_

_Will this eel pie come to you?_

_Happy, will you be?_

"Of course you'll be happy," Suki laughed after she recited the last verse. "If not, I'll get very mad."

She left the boat, pulling herself back to shore. When she had gotten to the beachhead, she trudged over to the stake. Her hands wrapped itself around the ropes, her feeble fingers feeling the rough texture of the material. She untied the knots and released the rope.

The boat was off, drifting into the wide open sea. Suki knew naught of whether it would run into a ferocious hurricane or a band of pirates. She only knew Sokka would receive it, and that was all that mattered to her.

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><p><em>Of Toph and her daughter<em>

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><p>The two of them walked the roads of Republic City alone that very early morning. Toph insisted that she didn't need any help, but when she nearly stumbled on a few pebbles, she consented to having her daughter at least hold one hand on her arm. Her 'eyesight' was failing. Her senses in her feet had gone numb long ago, and she was slowly losing the ability to see vibrations. She had complained about it at first, but when the condition grew more serious, she stopped talking about it altogether.<p>

But though she could not sense the vibrations on the outside as clearly as before, she could sense everything within her as clearly as ever. And what she sensed was that her heart was failing.

"Where are we going, mom?" said her daughter, a young woman in her early thirties. "I have work in almost an hour."

"Work, shmurk," Toph coughed. "You can spare a little time for my last few minutes on this earth, can't you?"

"It's today?" said Bei Fong, trying to keep her volume low. Her eyes widened as she almost clenched onto Toph's arm. "Why didn't you tell me sooner? We could have seen a doctor. We could've went to a Waterbender, or something. Why do you always keep these secrets from me?"

"It wouldn't really matter," Toph sighed. She put a hand on her hunched back, which hid how tall she had grown over the years. She pushed her back a little and stood up straighter than Bei Fong had ever seen her. "I'm old, and there's nothing that a doctor could do at this point. I've already outlived my time. Most of my other friends have as well. I think it's appropriate that I take one last walk with my daughter. Perhaps I can even spill my entire life to you, so put in some ear plugs if you don't want to hear it."

They walked as the sun rose, its heating spreading warmth over Toph's face. It felt nice, refreshing. Her skin had grown as cold as a snake's blood, her features still beautiful, but fragile like a baby bird.

"Ah this weather," Toph smiled, nodding in approval. "What a great day to die on, don't you think Bei Fong?"

"You don't have to be so happy about this," said the new police chief. "I'm still taking this rather hard."

"Now, now," Toph laughed, taking a turn at the next street. "Don't you go crying now after all that I've taught you. If you do, I swear I'll come back to life just to knock some sense into you."

"If you did come back to life," her daughter shot back. "Maybe I wouldn't mind crying a little bit."

"Oh dear," an old Blind Bandit smirked. "The child has some spunk. What happened to all your disciplined ways, Chief Bei Fong? Am I to believe that you've gotten soft at the sudden news of my death? Oh, here we are! Awesome."

Toph walked, almost eagerly into a cemetery. To Bei Fong's knowledge, it was the most obscure cemetery in the entirety of the city.

"Wait," Bei Fong widened her eyes. "You're going to…here? I thought we were going back after this."

"No," Toph sighed, her face suddenly turning grim. She turned to face her daughter. "I had little time as it is, and frankly I'd rather not have a bunch of people make a fuss over my body. It's my body after all, and I've only given it to one person my entire life."

"My heart is failing, my sweet daughter," Toph closed her eyes and positioned her hands in an Earthbending stance. It was the first time her mother had shown her Earthbending since she was a child. "Not only in the physical sense, but also in whatever emotional sense you can think of. Mostly everyone I know from the old days is gone, and it takes a toll on one's heart."

"You can't leave me yet," said Bei Fong.

"What are you, two?" Toph raised an eyebrow. "When I was six, I ran off my own and –"

"Learned Earthbending from the badgermoles," Bei Fong recited, waving her hands dismissively. She looked at the floor. "I know, I know. I just don't want you to leave yet."

Toph smiled. "Such is the way of a child I guess," she shrugged. "Some of them just never learn to let go. Maybe I should've stopped cradling you as a child. No matter, where we go."

Toph went to an open plot in the middle of the graves and made a swift jerk with her arms. It was hard work and sweat formed at the top of her brow. By the time she was done, however, a small grave was dug out for her.

"Digging my own grave," Toph put a finger to her chin, thinking about the joke for a moment. She stepped in. "He would've liked that one."

"But you haven't answered all my questions," Bei Fong clenched her fists. "Like…who is my father?"

"You'll know someday," Toph lied down in the grave. "You don't need me to answer that for you."

"I love you, mom," her daughter knelt down in front of her mother. "Thank you for everything."

"Don't say things like that now," Toph closed her eyes. "You might actually convince me that I don't want to die."

They bantered for a while after that, but by the afternoon, Chief Bei Fong had left, a small mound of displaced earth sitting in the middle of the graveyard.

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><p><em>Of Aang and Katara<em>

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><p>When Katara heard of his passing, she merely smiled and nodded.<p>

They had often been apart for long periods of times, and Katara had gotten so old now that she rarely remembered how long Aang had been gone. She was too busy in her own business. Helping the new children of the village, training Waterbenders, healing hunters who had fallen victim to the harsh tundra of the South Pole.

Still, her mind often drifted back into the past, where she remembered that she had married the Avatar that had saved the world from devastation. That she had children with him. That she now had grandchildren like her grandmother did. She remembered the carefree times, sitting on the back of a sky bison, feeling the fresh wind on her face.

It had taken her years for her love to manifest. It was pure and innocent, young and naïve. Words like "sweetie" made her gag now, but in the past that was all she could think of when she thought of Aang. It was only when he stopped visiting as often that she stopped using the word "sweetie", because there were other words that she needed to say in the scarce time that they had each other.

Now, he was gone, but Katara had already braced herself for the worst of it. She knew this day would come. A boy trapped in an iceberg for one hundred years was never bound for a longer life than Kyoshi, not to mention the stress of healing a world that had been burning for a century.

She didn't want to see the body, telling them that she would be too heartbroken to carry on. Instead, she asked that they honor him as they did all the Airbenders. Aang himself had told her. The life of an Airbender and the life of a monk was intertwined; it was a pursuit of enlightenment, detachment, an achievement never granted to an Avatar whose duty had always been bound to the floor.

So they took him to the highest mountain peaks, a place closest to the heavens, and laid him to rest there.

A cry from the tent broke Katara's thoughts. She immediately realized that she was to help in the new birth, and she rushed towards the tent with broken steps. When she entered, the midwives were already cleaning the child, rubbing it down, and helping the mother with any lingering problems.

"Bless the child," said the mother, who saw that Katara had entered the room. "I want you, the wife of the Avatar, to please bless my child."

Katara smiled. "I would be happy too," she said, surprised that her own voice reminded her now of her grandmother. How old times can get, she realized.

She walked to the baby. She stared into the baby's opening eyes and froze suddenly.

There was a mutual feeling of understanding. She didn't have the same eye's as his, nor the same mouth, or ears. These were all features of her parent's, and they were beautiful features for a baby.

But it was instead the spirit of the child, who gazed into Katara's eyes with looks of happiness, nostalgia, regret, all bundled into a tight package in the baby's eyes. It was as if Aang himself was trying to say something through the child, but could only convey his meaning through the look in her eyes.

_I'm sorry I left first_. _I wish we could have had one more penguin sledding adventure together. Please raise this child with the same love that you showed me._

Nothing else mattered but those words. The baby started giggling at the sight of Katara, holding on her hand as if it was some toy, peering all over the wrinkles on her aged face. A tear fell down that face, and the baby was quick to swipe it off and stick it in her mouth.

"I'll be happy to bless this child," Katara closed her eyes and placed her hand on the baby's forehead.

"She is a beautiful child, with a beautiful destiny."

_Fin_

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><p><strong>AN: **Happy Valentines Day! I know this might not ring of the traditional Valentine's love, but I think it fits for me. If you've noticed, all of the survivors of the gang are women, and the reason is simply because statistically, men are more fragile than women (as crazy as that might sound). I got a bit saddened by this fact, and decided to write fanfiction accordingly.

Have a good day. ^^


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